The Year We Built the Sukkah

Some kids nag their dad to get them a dog. Mine nagged me to build them a sukkah.

Ever since my children were old enough to go to Hebrew School, each year they asked me if we could build a sukkah for Sukkot. As you know, a sukkah is a small dwelling place --- a sort of glorified hut --- that Jews construct and inhabit during Sukkot instead of their comfortable homes with heat, indoor plumbing, and television sets showing the World Series.

All things considered, however, being pushed for a sukkah beats having your kids constantly nagging you about getting a dog. A sukkah doesn't have to be walked at 6:30 in the morning in February and very rarely messes on the hardwood flooring. And since I didn't grow up having a sukkah but did have a dog, the idea frankly kind of appealed to me as well.

I am mechanically inclined – inclined to hire a mechanic that is.

There was only problem. I am the type of Jewish person who happens to be very mechanically inclined; that is, whenever any situation requiring fixing or repairing things arises, I am very inclined to hire a mechanic. It's the same with constructing things. I have been known to give up in disgust after attempting to put together a toy for children under three from McDonald's.

So, I stonewalled.

"Guys, if we have our own sukkah, you won't enjoy the neighbor's sukkah as much."

This was true. Our neighbor, a Jewish man who owned an elaborate set of power tools, built a tree house for his children, and I believe spent Sundays instructing Amish people in the art of barn raising, annually built a killer sukkah. Large, sturdy, bedecked in gourds, pumpkins, and sumptuous decorations acquired by the family over years, the neighbors' sukkah lacked only water spewing fountains to make it a secondary tourist attraction in the Philadelphia area.

Then our neighbor moved away to a house with larger property where he could presumably build an even more grandiose sukkah, and was replaced with a nice gentile family which spent appreciably less time each fall building a sukkah than turning their house each winter into Rockefeller Center.

"Look, you guys," I said to the kids pressing harder for excuses, "we have kind of a smallish house and sometimes the roof leaks. That's just as good!"

Finally, I relented. This year my son Brandon and I would build a sukkah. The only problem now was that Brandon is every bit as handyman challenged as I am. This is a young guy who looks about for a plug whenever he is required to use a screwdriver and operates a pair of pliers by blowing on them. So we sought out some kind of more or less ready-made sukkah.

Knowing little, we checked the web. Although I had my heart set on a sukkah that said "just add water," all of them said "some assembly required." For Brandon and me, that usually means an assembly we both ought not to attend. Even more compelling, all said "some dollars required, “in most cases multiple hundreds.

Our new neighbor, also quite handy, came to our rescue with multiple plywood boards and cinder blocks. The boards were somewhat daunting and featured wood knots the size of supernovas, but at least I was familiar with cinder blocks, their having served as more or less the sole decoration for my dorm room the first year of college. The some assembly required did include its share of modestly banged fingers, scraped shins, and "where's the plug for the hammer, Dad?" but we wedged the plywood between the cinder blocks, laid on the wooden top, and covered the whole thing with sheets that had long ago seen their better days.

Gradually a hovel-like structure arose. We enlisted neighborhood children to make decorations, most of whom proved to be as artistically challenged as we were mechanically so. We added gourds and pumpkins, blessed the sukkah, and though some of our Jewish neighbors said it looked great "but when was it going to be finished?" we were ready to spend happy times there well in advance of the holiday.

That is, well in advance of the rainy holiday. That year it rained the first five days of Sukkot, during which time we had to content ourselves with spending happy times admiring our handiwork getting drenched. By the time it dried out at the end of the holiday, we did enjoy a meal or two there.

Sitting in the sukkah, gazing skyward, and chowing down on the traditional corned beef specials, french fries, and Coca-Cola from Murray's Delicatessen, I think we both felt a little bit proud of our achievement and maybe a little bit closer to our Jewish roots.

Since then circumstances have intervened, and that was the last sukkah Brandon and I ever built.

I'm still using the same excuse. "Y'know Bran," I say, "we live in kind of a smallish house and sometimes the roof leaks. That just as ..."

Featured at Aish.com:

About the Author

Perry Block is a humorist and human resources professional who lives in Havertown PA, just outside of Philadelphia. In his blog, www.perryblock.com, Perry chronicles the world through the eyes of one Baby Boomer warily poised on the cusp of an age he always thought was exclusively reserved for people’s parents.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 8

(4)
Joey,
November 20, 2011 4:37 AM

Funny

"Just add water." XD
God bless!

Perry Block,
December 1, 2011 8:48 AM

Reply to Joey

If you can find me one that's "just add water," I'll buy one for both you and me! Thanks for the comment.

(3)
Thomas Skayhan,
October 23, 2011 4:13 PM

Hillarious and informative

I ejoy the site very much. It s contents bring joy to my day.

Perry Block,
October 23, 2011 10:02 PM

Hilarious and informative

Thank you, Thomas! I hope to play a role, no matter how small, in the hilarious. The informative, well, I may have to leave that part to wiser heads!

(2)
sarA,
October 17, 2011 4:34 AM

I LOVE building our sukkah

I liked the humour in this article very much. It is really funny! I love buiding and this is one of my favorite holidays. Plus you feel a sense of accomplishment after you finished it. :)
Shana Tova

Perry Block,
October 20, 2011 2:13 AM

I love building our sukkah

Thank you for the nice comment, Sara. Unlike you, I DON'T love building but I can understand the sense of accomplishment you mention. I would prefer, however, to get that sense of accomplishment by winning the lottery! Shana Tova to you too : תי

(1)
IRWIN LUXENBERG,
October 11, 2011 1:32 PM

BUILDING AND EATING IN OUR SUCCAH IS ONE OF LIFES GREAAEATES JOYS, OUR ENTIRE FAMILY LOOKS FORWARD TO THIS YOM TOV ! ! !

Perry Block,
October 12, 2011 2:26 AM

Reply to Irwin

Thanks for your comment, Irwin. Having now built one myself (sort of) and enjoyed our neighbors' sukkahs for many years, I can certainly agree!

My Christian friends are always speaking about “faith.” To me this sounds a lot like blind faith. Is that really the essence of religion?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

I'm afraid that this is another case of a Christian concept being mis-associated with Judaism.

Let's first define our terms. What is faith?

Webster defines faith as "Belief without proof."

What is knowledge? "An acquaintance with truth, facts or principles through study or investigation."

Faith is usually a product of desire. Have you ever gotten a tip on the market that guarantees you're going to triple your money in a month? A lot of smart people have gotten fleeced because they ignored the evidence and went with their feelings.

Knowledge, on the other hand, is based on evidence. We know there's a place called China because we have too many products in our house saying "made in China." There's a lot of evidence for the existence of China, even though most of us have never been there.

Judaism unequivocally comes down on the side of knowledge, not faith. In Deuteronomy 4:39, the Torah says: "You shall know this day, and understand it well in your heart, that the Almighty is God; in the heaven above and the earth below, there is none other." (This verse is also contained in the prayer, "Aleynu.")

This verse tells us that it is not enough to simply know in your head, intellectually, that God is the Controller of everything. You must know it in your heart! This knowledge is much more profound than an intellectual knowledge. God gave us a brain because he wants us to think rationally about the world, our role in it, and our relationship with God.

A conviction based on desire or feelings alone has no place in Judaism. The Hebrew word "emunah," which is often translated as faith, does not describe a conviction based on feelings or desire. It describes a conviction that is based on evidence.

Once this knowledge is internalized, it effects how a person lives. A person with this knowledge could transform every breathing moment into a mitzvah, for he would do everything for the sake of the heaven. But this is not a "knowledge," that comes easily. Only intensive Torah learning and doing mitzvahs can achieve this knowledge. Every word of Torah we learn moves us just a little bit closer to that goal. And everyone is capable of that.

To learn more, read "The Knowing Heart," by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (Feldheim.com). This entire book is an explanation of this verse!

In 350 BCE, the building of the second Holy Temple was completed in Jerusalem, as recorded in the biblical Book of Ezra (6:15). The re-building of the Temple had begun under Cyrus when the Persians first took over the Babylonian empire. The re-building was then interrupted for 18 years, and resumed with the blessing of Darius II, the Persian king whom is said to be the son of Esther. The Second Temple lacked much of the glory of the First Temple: There was no Ark of the Covenant, and the daily miracles and prophets were no longer part of the scenery. The Second Temple would stand for 420 years, before being destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE.

You shall know this day and consider it within your heart(Deuteronomy 4:39).

Business people who are involved in many transactions employ accountants to analyze their operations and to determine whether or not they are profitable. They may also seek the help of experts to determine which products are making money and which are losing. Such studies allow them to maximize their profits and minimize their losses. Without such data, they might be doing a great deal of business, but discover at the end of the year that their expenditures exceeded their earnings.

Sensible people give at least as much thought to the quality and achievement of their lives as they do to their businesses. Each asks himself, "Where am I going with my life? What am I doing that is of value? In what ways am I gaining and improving? And which practices should I increase, and which should I eliminate?"

Few people make such reckonings. Many of those that do, do so on their own, without consulting an expert's opinion. These same people would not think of being their own business analysts and accountants, and they readily pay large sums of money to engage highly qualified experts in these fields.

Jewish ethical works urge us to regularly undergo cheshbon hanefesh, a personal accounting. We would be foolish to approach this accounting of our very lives with any less seriousness than we do our business affairs. We should seek out the "spiritual C.P.A.s," those who have expertise in spiritual guidance, to help us in our analyses.

Today I shall...

look for competent guidance in doing a personal moral inventory and in planning my future.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...